Maybe it was pure shock but I somehow took the whole break-up well. I knew he didn’t want to hurt me. And admittedly, in the beginning of our relationship, neither of us ever envisioned marriage as part of our life journey. But we fell in love and did what you do when you fall in love. You plan a beautiful wedding to celebrate that love, take a romantic honeymoon vacation, buy a house, get a dog... We did everything but the kids. Thank god, no kids!
So, my marriage was ending but it didn’t feel like the end of the world because he was still my best friend. We still slept together in the bamboo bed we had custom-made on our Mexican honeymoon. We cuddled on the couch and watched movies together. We took our dog, Brooklyn, on long walks in the park. Everything felt normal. Almost. Maybe too normal. Things felt so normal, in fact, that I started to re-gain hope. I mean, why give up after eight years together and six years of marriage? In my heart, I felt resolved to do whatever necessary to heal our relationship. I wanted to do better, be better, love better. I promised myself that I would listen, really listen to the needs of my EX and make it my solid intention to give as much energy necessary to our marriage to re-kindle the spark, the passion and the desire to live together “happily ever after”. I was committed to cutting back my relentless work schedule for more “us” time. I wanted us to have a social life together again. We used to love “dinner & a movie” dates, dance classes, hiking Fryman’s Canyon, hanging at Venice beach, bowling, shooting pool, playing Scrabble (my fave) or Yahtzee (his fave). I wanted all of that back. Plus, I wanted to support him at his AA meetings. I wanted to be available for him in any way he needed me during his journey towards sobriety. I even gave up my own addiction, SUGAR, just so he didn’t have to go cold turkey alone. And trust, my obscene obsession with and ability to inhale hot, gooey chocolate chip cookies with Hoover-style efficiency put our addictions on par. Yes I gave that up for my EX. That's big! I was also willing to set my alarm clock a little early for 6am blow jobs, just to make sure he started his day off feeling satisfied. I loved my EX more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. I wasn’t prepared for this to be the end. Not without a fight. Not without effort.
Well, normal until our house miraculously sold in two days and we found ourselves with eager buyers and a thirty-day escrow. We assumed we’d be sitting on that property for months in view of the current real estate market and the foreclosures that lined the streets of Los Angeles. Wow, in thirty days we had to be out of our house! Where were we gonna live? I guess I kind of assumed that my EX and I would just get a temporary apartment together until we figured out our separation and divorce. Little did I know, he already had a game plan. So, with thirty days notice, he breaks the news that he had an “unconfirmed” gig in Vegas and was going to take it. HUH? WHAT? Um, where does that leave ME in thirty days? Alone, homeless and without a plan!
